I would, for you
by UnderxConstruction
Summary: Starts right in the middle of GFD, here's a bunch of missing pieces from the epi. It starts with friendship, it'll end with love. Because Mac would do anything for Stella. Last chapter up: now a rating M
1. Chapter 1

Hey, I'm back already! Since you of theCSI:NY section are such nice readers, and because today I had an exam and went well, which means I've got the rest of the day free, I present you my own version of the infamous episode Grounds for Deception. Great episode, that one, but lacked a bit of… spark? Nope, that's not the word… err… human connection? That'll do.

This takes place after Stella has been attacked in her hotel room and Mac comes to her aid.

Enjoy and leave a little review while passing. I'll add other chapters according to my inspiration.

Stella watched in dismay as Professor P's brother escaped, turning the corner as he ran away and ultimately reached safety out of Mac's range. She barely registered her friend's concerned words, hoping her absent minded answer fitted his question well enough for him not to notice how out of it she really was. She felt suddenly drained, and the hot, polluted air of that part of the city constricted her throat almost painfully as she tried to get some oxygen for her tired limbs. She was on the very verge of fainting, she recognized the symptoms, and the heaviness in her legs was almost overwhelming.

-Stella? Stella?-

She turned her head in slow motion, following Mac's distant voice. She had not realized he was touching her.

-Stella, you're trembling, yet you're sweating… why don't you sit?-, he told her in a soft, conciliating tone, grasping her hand to lead her inside. She tried nodding her head, but that little movement caused a dizzy spell; she swayed beside Mac. Exhausted, her body shut down; her eyes rolled back and she fainted.

She came round slowly, panicking because she didn't recognize where she was. As soon as her sight cleared, she looked around. It was definitely a hotel room, but it wasn't hers, of that she was sure. The bedspread was the wrong color to begin with, and turning her head, she couldn't find a window. What was going on?

She heard footsteps quickly approaching, a man's footsteps. He stopped exactly in front of the door which separated him from her and inserted a key in the lock. Unconsciously, Stella retreated on the bed until her back hit the headboard, all the while reaching for her missing piece.

It was a familiar and decidedly friendly face which greeted her, though.

-Mac!-, she exclaimed, already feeling foolish for overreacting. His eyes widened at the realization that she was awake.

-Stella. How are you feeling?-, he asked, carefully closing the door behind his back. He approached the bed slowly, putting a bottle of cold water on the nightstand beside Stella and offering her a glass of warm milk.

-Here, drink this. It's honeyed, it'll give you some energy. -, he said gently, observing intently as his long time friend drowned his offering. He knew she liked honeyed milk to calm her nerves after a particularly tiring day, she had confided one night as he'd watched her prepare the concoction in his kitchen; since then, he'd always made it for her himself. That day would be no exception, only because they were an ocean away from home didn't mean he wouldn't take care of his partner as best as he could.

-Aren't I supposed to sleep now?-, Stella wondered once she was finished with her drink; at the first sign of her having to stretch in order to place the empty glass on the nightstand, Mac intercepted her hands, disentangling the glass from her long fingers to complete the task himself.

-I want you to feel better. -, he simply said, turning to look at her. Stella was desperate for something to break the tension, the dark haired man's intense stare was starting to give her, if not the creeps (there was no way Mac would spook her), massive goose-bumps, and she really didn't want to feel awkward in her best friend's presence, not then, when she was at her most vulnerable point.

-Why am I in your room?-, she blurted out, guessing that was where he had taken her.

-Because it has no windows. -, came his prompt reply, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. –No one will be able to enter, unless I let them, and I have no intention of letting anyone in till tomorrow morning. I want you to rest. -, he added, pushing her gently to a laying position. She just watched him, unable to come up with anything worthy to be said, struggling to come to terms with his words. Why was he babying her so? And why wasn't she protesting?

He raised, causing the bed to oscillate due to the loss of weight, moving away from the bed.

-Where are you going?-, Stella asked, suddenly alarmed at the concrete possibility of him leaving her.

-I'm not going anywhere, Stell. -, Mac quickly assured her, stepping into the adjacent bathroom. A rustle of clothes followed, before finally the dark haired man reemerged wearing only a thin black T-shirt and sweatpants. Strangely calm, the curly haired woman wondered idly whether he was going to lie beside her on the bed or not.

He wasn't, she realized as he sat down on the chair opposite the door, as if surveying it and readying himself to do that all night long.

-Don't be ridiculous, Mac!-, the woman exclaimed, bolting to a sitting position, surprised at the booming of her voice in the small enclosed room. –You can sleep on the bed as well, it's big enough for the two of us. -, she reasoned, patting the empty space at her side. She locked eyes with Mac; she didn't care about sounding, or rather looking, pleading, begging even, all she knew in that moment was that the thought of letting Mac sit all night in a uncomfortable looking chair when there was an inviting place on the bed available seemed preposterous. She didn't mind sharing. She _wanted_ to share. She needed to.

-Are you sure?-, he wondered, cautiously raising from his position.

-Yes. Now come lie beside me. I want to sleep. -, she replied with an hint of humor, rolling onto her stomach to find a more comforting position as Mac's limbs stretched at her side.

-Goodnight. –

The following day, Stella woke up to the most intense feeling of warmth and protection she had ever experienced in her whole life.

Cracking one eye open, she was met by the sight of the stern looking face of Mac Taylor, and as she followed the profile of his neck to where it met his shoulder and became the one muscled arm draped over her body, she was struck by the realization that this amazing man was her own living and breathing shield, her guardian angel, who had followed her to another continent just to watch over her while she slept.

She willingly gave in to the impulse to reach out to him; she placed her palm flat on his back, then started massaging it, trying to ease the tension of the muscles tightened to the point of slightly trembling. It didn't take long for him to wake up. One of the many things Stella found fascinating about Mac Taylor was the fact that he could go from asleep to completely awake in the span of a second. When he opened his blue eyes, he had her face already in focus.

-Stella, what…?-, he raised his head from the cushion, already inspecting the room for intruders, but Stella forced him to lie back with her, their faces less than an inch from one another. He watched her silently, then, waiting for her to tell him why she'd woken him, not at all bothered by it. If she wanted to talk, fine, he would listen. If she wanted to be held, or comforted, he would do it. If she wanted to stare into his eyes, then he would keep them open for her.

-Mac, relax. You're too tense, no one is gonna hurt me now. -, she finally whispered, resuming her loving ministrations until she felt the muscles in his back yield under her fingertips. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, then, letting him embrace her at the waist.

-We'll have to get up soon. -, he mentioned after a while, having checked the time on the clock placed strategically upon the nightstand in front of him, by Stella's side. When she said nothing, he let his hand creep up to the back of head, where he started stroking her curls in a comforting manner.

-Right now I'm good where I am. -


	2. Chapter 2

Et voilà, the second chapter, as you so nicely requested. Still definitely on the friendship side, but I just couldn't depict them jumping each other's bones after a traumatic event such as Stella losing her father figure. So… here we go! Let me know what you think!

During the flight home (Mac delighted in the fact that Stella still thought of New York as her home), the curly haired Detective remained mostly silent, staring out of the window at the passing clouds, too fast a blur to try and identify something in their shape. Not that she felt much imaginative in that moment.

Her companion couldn't help but shoot her worried glances out of the corner of his eye from time to time. He wasn't sure what to say to her, so he was hoping she'd give him a sign of some kind, something to work on and go on from, but nothing so far.

At some point, Stella gave in to exhaustion and closed her eyes; she was in slight done within minutes, and unconsciously leaning towards Mac. She instinctively sought out his warmth; she could have easily placed her head against the window pane, but she didn't, seeking the comfort of her partner's body. When her cheek hit his shoulder, her eyes snapped open. She raised her eyes to meet Mac's, half expecting him to shy away from the intimate touch; instead, she felt a faint pressure on her hand.

He had gripped it, and proceeded to intertwine their fingers, raising their joined arms as he got rid of the armrest separating their seats.

-Sleep, Stella. -, he gently commanded, shifting so that his body was partly facing hers. Not needing further encouragement, the woman abandoned her head back against the former Marine's shoulder, and he placed his on top of hers. They were both asleep within minutes.

-You know, I don't need coffee grounds to see how lucky I am to have you in my life, Mac. -, she told him earnestly, with her gorgeous emerald eyes wide open and fixed upon his. The man's ears turned pink at her praise, and as a reflex he tried to change the subject, to avoid the embarrassment.

-Okay, okay, what do you... what do you got in here?-, he asked, nodding to the coffee cup in her delicate hands. She laughed at his obvious discomfort. It wasn't a bad thing in her opinion, it just showed what she already knew, that Mac Taylor tended to shy away from compliments, even when they came from his best friend.

-See, there you go. See that right there? That's an "S." That would be Stella, the woman in your life who sometimes you adore, and sometimes she drives you crazy. –

He leaned towards her, probably just to humor he, feigning interest in that cup of coffee when in truth all of his senses where finely tuned with her nuances, from the way her musical laughter seemed to brighten up the room, to the warmth that spread from her hand lightly placed upon his upper arm to the centre of his chest, where his heart beat just a little bit faster by her sheer nearness.

-You realize we're the worst workaholic ever?-, she piped up after a while.

-Mmm?-, he acknowledged her remark with a little sound from the back of his throat. Without realizing it, he was slowly drifting off to sleep, the warmth of her body pressed up against his lulling him into a comforting slumber.

-I mean, we've just come back from Greece, our flight landed less than an hour ago, yet here we are. -, she further elaborated, still perfectly awake. Mac mumbled something incoherent, then, upon Stella's request to repeat, he forced out: -Maybe we both felt the day was not over yet, that there were things still left unsaid…-

Stella pondered over the man's words for a little while. Had he been a bit more awake, she was sure he wouldn't have let them slip. He was gifted with a good insight to people's feelings, but he rarely let himself reveal it, especially when it concerned the two of them. He was right, there had been things left unsaid; there still were. For example, she still couldn't fully understand Mac's reason for following her to another continent. He'd said he cared about her, but was that enough for something as drastic as hopping into the first plane to Greece he'd found, considering he was as far away from spontaneous as it could get? Not to mention that he'd clearly said once that he'd never leave his beloved Country ever again after having returned from the Marines…

_For me. He did all this for me._

She shook him awake. His eyes snapped open as soon as she laid a hand on his thigh.

-Let's go home, Mac. It's late. -, she suggested. He nodded, carefully disentangling himself from his partner's limbs.

-Let's call a cab. I'm too tired to drive. I don't know why I feel so exhausted…-, he said, shrugging his coat on and helping Stella with hers.

-You've slept with your eyes open for at least a couple of days. You need rest, too, real rest. -, she told him gently, linking her arm with his as they made their way to the elevator. _You've been to occupied watching over me to really sleep. You're so tired you actually admitted to be tired!_, she mentally scolded her partner, but not without a hint of pride for his selfless actions.

If that wasn't care…

Mac laid awake staring at the ceiling in the darkened room. Rolling onto his stomach for the umpteenth time, he gave vent to his frustration by means of punching the pillow. Why wouldn't sleep come? Why did it keep eluding him, while a mere hour before he was practically falling asleep on Stella?

_That's why. She's not here with you_, his overactive brain supplied, causing him to groan out aloud. He got rid of the covers, kicking them down on the floor. Barefoot, he padded towards the kitchen, figuring a glass of water would cool him down and maybe relax him a bit. Just then he heard a knock on the door.

-Stella!-, he greeted his late night visitor, surprised to find his partner at his doorsteps. Could it be that she'd been thinking about him, too, struggling to fall asleep?

-Hey, Mac. Uh… oh!-, the woman exclaimed, noticing his attire. Her eyes traveled up the length of his legs, bared to her appreciative sight till mid tight. –Err, cool boxers. -, she commented, if nothing to ease the tension.

He merely raised a dark eyebrow, opening the door wide to let her enter. –I wasn't expecting company. Not to say yours isn't always appreciated. -, he replied, ushering her inside. –I was just getting something to drink. Can I get you anything?-, he offered, seemingly not bothered by the fact that he was standing in front of his decidedly overdressed partner in nothing more that boxers and a thin black T-shirt.

Stella looked at him sheepishly. –Actually… do you have some milk?-, she asked timidly, biting her bottom lip, something which Mac found utterly adorable. _Adorable?_

-Of course, Stell. Guess what, I even have a jar of your favorite honey. -, he smiled at her, leading her to the couch as he returned to the kitchen. He worked quickly, heating the milk as he retrieved the aforementioned jar from the cupboard , inexplicably willing to please Stella with his efficiency.

He needn't have bothered. When he came back to the living room, the curly haired woman was already asleep, curled up on the side of his couch. He chuckled, then, having no better thing to do, he sat down beside her. He took a sip of the warm sweetened milk. Mmm, he could see why Stella was so fond of the concoction. Placing the glass down on the coffee table, he closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of the couch.

Sleep came easily.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi, I'm back! Today I had an exam, so I'm a bit out of it. Hope this chapter won't be to disappointing. Enjoy!

He had been asleep, truly asleep, Stella realized as his eyes fluttered open slowly, his pupils gradually adjusting to the morning light.

She had woken up mere minutes before herself, and she couldn't have been more surprised. She had slept curled up against one side of Mac's couch, and the man himself had joined her, slipping towards her as he surrendered to sleep. She'd found him with his head gently resting on her hip, one hand seeking warmth behind the hollow of her knees and the other delicately placed on her stomach.

-Stella?-, he mumbled, vaguely conscious of her fingers idly playing with his short cropped hair. He shifted, slipping an arm around her waist, under her body and between it and the couch, squeezing lightly as he shook the last vestiges of sleep away.

-Yeah, sorry if it's not Claudia Schiffer. -, the woman sassed, stretching her legs alongside Mac's. The man snorted softly.

-Don't be. -, he replied, grunting as he turned to lie down on his side, facing Stella. She watched him intently, trying to understand his body language and facial expression. Above anything else, he seemed relaxed, almost content, not a trace of discomfort in his stance. Where had the shy man of the night before disappeared to?

-How about some breakfast?-, he interrupted her musings, his hot breath blowing gently against the woman's face due to their proximity. Repressing a shiver, she nodded, then, not resisting the urge to add a joke: -You sure you've got something edible in your fridge?-

Mac chuckled as he helped Stella to her feet. –Well, I'm positive I have milk, honey and coffee. Anything else I can get from the shop down the street. -, he replied, stretching his back as he walked to the kitchen. Stella immediately missed the warmth provided by her partner's body, but realizing she really had to use the bathroom, disappeared in the opposite direction, calling out to Mac about her whereabouts.

When she returned, still battling against her rebellious curls, she remained oblivious to her partner's soft look, at least until she gave up trying to taming her hair and raised her eyes to meet Mac's. He chuckled at her sheepish expression, then proceeded to retrieve the spoon from the bowl of milk in front of him; finding it still partly covered in milk, he offered it to Stella. She shot him a funny look, then humored him and closed her lips around the tool, licking the excess of honey off with her tongue until she was satisfied with the result. It didn't escape her the fact that Mac stuck the spoon back in _his_ bowl of milk instead of hers.

-That was the most wonderful, disgusting thing I have ever eaten, you realize that, right?-, she joked, sitting at the table in front of the man as he handed her her own bowl of milk. It was then that she realized he had stuck the spoon _she_ had licked in _his_.

-Didn't realize you were a honey person, Mac. -, she commented with a smirk. He shrugged his shoulders.

-Usually I'm not, but this morning I decided to indulge myself since you seem to find it so good. -, he replied good-naturedly, downing a large gulp of honeyed milk.

-Don't worry, you're sweet enough already. -, she told him before realizing exactly what she'd said. Her eyes widened in shock, but Mac seemed not to mind as he just smiled before raising the bowl to his face, effectively hiding it from Stella as he sipped the milk.

-So…-, she cleared her throat, trying to mask her embarrassment. –Do you have any plans for today? We both have the day off. -, she reminded him unnecessarily, since the man himself had graced them both with a snow day to sleep the jet-lag off. –Thank you for that. -, she added.

-No problem, thought we could both use it. -, he replied nonchalantly. –Mmm, I don't know. I feel like watching a movie. -, he added as an afterthought.

-Okay. -, Stella replied uncertainly, not yet knowing whether "watching a movie" involved her or not. –What did you have in mind?-, she pressed the matter, hoping to get her answer. He smirked.

-Well, I know you hate my western movies collection, so those are not an option. Besides, I'm not in the mood for western… why don't we go to the mall, browse their selection and get some groceries for lunch?-, he proposed. Stella blinked, surprised. Suddenly, she was faced with a schedule which could possibly keep her occupied the whole day. A whole day she was going to spend with Mac.

-You are suggesting we go to the mall, willingly?-, she checked, just to make sure, causing her partner to chuckle and nod his head yes.

-Okay, then. Err, you won't happen to have a brush for curly hair, right?-, the woman wondered with a small embarrassed smile.

-You got that one right. -, he replied. –The days when I used to wear my hair long have long since past. -, he added with a shrug. Stella almost choked on her drink.

-Sorry? You used to keep your hair long?-, she repeated, disbelieving Mac's words, eyes searching the former Marine's face for any sign that it was all a joke. She found none, despite the fact that he was smiling.

-Yeah, when I was twenty. Thought it was cool, ya know? Being in a band and all. -, he explained.

-And it was curly?-, the woman wondered with a smirk, raising from her chair to go rinse her bowl and spoon. Shortly after, Mac did the same, meeting her at the sink.

-Well, yeah. Not as much as yours, mind you, but you get the picture. -, he said, embarrassed. He had not thought she'd give that little piece of information about himself so much importance. She surprised him even more when, after having wiped her hands on a apron, she ran her finger through his short cropped hair, from the base of his neck to the top of his head. He almost purred at the magnificent sensation.

-For the record, I like it short. -, she sentenced, disappearing in the bathroom.

-I don't think I've ever brought home so many bags…-, Mac grumbled as he carried the last of their shopping inside his apartment. Stella was still panting after having carried two heavy bags for so many flights of stairs.

-Don't ask me to do anything else, I'm exhausted. -, she proclaimed, crashing down on the couch. The former Marine chuckled.

-If you tire that easily, you should start going to the gym. -, he bit back good naturedly, bringing the groceries to the kitchen.

-But it's no fun when you don't know anyone. I need motivation. -, she complained, stretching on the comfortable sofa. –I'm hungry. -, she added suddenly. –Why don't you make some sandwiches?-, she suggested, grinning as she pictured Mac's annoyed look at her request.

-You sure are lazy. -, came his prompt remark, but she could definitely hear the smile in his tone. –You know what, this afternoon you'll come to the gym with me and if you like it, I'll get you a subscription. -, he proposed, causing Stella's eyes to widen in surprise. She didn't know how to respond to that, so she just remained silent, letting the faint sounds of Mac working in the kitchen lull her wandering thoughts. When he came back in the living room, presenting her with sandwiches and orange juice, she was browsing through the stack of films they had bought.

-So, what are you in the mood for?-, he asked, fearing he had pushed her too much. When she handed him the movie of her choice, he couldn't help but comment on it: -Really? No chick flick?-, he wondered in a slightly teasing tone. She shrugged.

-I wanna see a girl kicking serious asses. I need reassurances about us women's power. -, she confessed in a serious tone. Understanding her meaning, Mac nodded and proceeded to pop _Resident Evil: Extinction_ in his DVD player. He scooped Stella's legs, still stretched upon the couch, up in his arm, then sat down in their place, putting them down in his lap. As he handed her a sandwich, the curly haired woman changed position, so that she was resting with her back against her partner's tight. With an impish grin, Mac lowered his head and took a bite of Stella's snack.

-Hey!-, she protested, ready to snap to a sitting position. The dark haired man's hand on her stomach prevented her from doing so.

-Let your abs rest, they'll work later. -, he told her, slipping the arm around her belly. She sighed, nestling comfortably against his side as the movie finally began, his little theft immediately forgotten.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys, sorry for the wait. Real life's a bitch. Anyway, here's the next chapter! See how Mac and Stella slowly start becoming more aware of each other…

-I think Milla Johovic is fantastic. -, Stella said as the ending credits rolled on. She was resting comfortably with her head on Mac's lap, his left hand running absentmindedly through her curls and the other arm curled around her abdomen.

-Yeah, she's okay for zombie movies, but apart from that, I don't think she's that great. It's not as if her face was that expressive. -, he replied flatly.

-Well, she was not afraid of zombies and not happy to kill them. What emotion was she supposed to show?-, Stella bit back, raising to a sitting position. Mac shrugged, signaling he didn't have an answer for that.

-I'm gonna go make some lunch. Feel free to put in another movie if you want. -, he announced, getting to his feet. The woman's eyes followed his back to the kitchen.

-Are you sure you don't need a hand?-, she called, already reaching for the jacket containing the three _Resident Evil _movies. She knew Mac was not a man to let a guest raise a single hand while in his house, let alone a woman. His best friend.

-Of course. I'll prepare something light, perfect for sports. Is that okay?-, he called back. Stella chuckled to herself.

-As long as it's edible, I don't care. -, she replied, inspecting the jacket in hopes that it would help her decide whether or not to start watching another film. She found herself closely examining the picture of a zombie. She had to admit, they were very convincing; not that she'd ever seen a real zombie, but some of the corpses that ended up on Sid's table came damn close to it.

An idea sparked to her mind. Grinning mischievously, she raised silently to her feet, running a hand through her curls to let them fall to partly cover her face. She schooled her facial features to look as blank as possible, namely fighting off the smirk constantly tugging at the corner of her lips, then advanced slowly towards the kitchen.

At first Mac didn't give much attention to the faint rustle behind his back, figuring Stella had decided to come take a look at his handiwork; he turned around, he needed to go to the fridge, then stopped. He took a step to his left just before Stella could crash into him, watching her as she advanced until her hips hit the counter. He smirked as she kept walking, bumping into the offending obstacle time after time.

Still smiling, he took hold of her shoulders and slowly spun her around, observing her as she resumed walking, slightly dragging her right foot. All in all, she made a convincing zombie.

-Hey, Stell, lunch's ready. -, he called after a while. She entered the kitchen once again, but instead of going to the table, slowly approached him. Confused, he took a step back, then another, until he hit the counter, much like the woman had done moments before.

-Stell, what…?-, he didn't finish his sentence as Stella wound her arms around him and raised her head to his neck. She placed a kiss to its side, then retreated, smiling up at Mac's slightly shocked face.

-Don't you know that zombies eat flesh, preferably hot and fragrant?-, she mocked him, unconsciously caressing his neck with her hand. She had always liked Mac's neck, to the point that one might say that she was slightly obsessed with it.

-I think this particular zombie needs to eat her veggies. -, he replied with a smirk of his own as, unexpectedly, he scooped Stella up in his arms and carried her to the table. She squealed as the man pushed the chair back a little with his foot, then again as he placed her down on it.

-Eat. You'll like it. -, he commanded mockingly, chuckling at the peeved expression on his partner's face. He was particularly proud of having been able to turn the joke on her, thus surprising her into a stunned silence.

-Mac, I don't have anything to wear to go to the gym!-, Stella complained as her host disappeared into his bedroom.

-Don't worry, I have a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that will fit you. -, he called from his wardrobe, rummaging through it as he searched for the aforementioned items. He returned a while later, smiling as he presented Stella with the garments.

-Here you go. If you want, you can take one of my sweaters to go with them, this way your jacket won't get dirty. -, he offered.

-You're really sure about this, aren't you?-, the woman commented as she searched the man's blue eyes. He nodded.

-Yes. Going to the gym or to the swimming pool is something I enjoy, and I would like to show you around, since you expressed a moderate interest in it. -, he replied just as seriously, then, on a lighter note: -I'd have offered to take you to the pool, but you would've probably mocked me saying that it was all an excuse to see you in a bikini… not that a bikini is suitable for swimming, anyway. -, he added, almost rambling.

Stella smirked. –You're right on that. Okay, c'mon. Let's go. –

Mac showed her around quickly, seeing as there was close to no one, being the middle of the afternoon; people usually started to show up much later, close to dinner-time, he explained, then told her to go change.

They met up in front of the treadmills. The man's expression betrayed nothing of his inner thoughts, but the shock of seeing miles and miles of shapely legs coursed through his body like an electric jolt. He cleared his throat, then proceeded to explain how the machines worked.

-We could start with these to warm up. -, he concluded, all the while thinking to himself that he really did not need to get any warmer than he already was.

-Sure. -, she replied, gesturing for him to precede her. As he positioned himself on the treadmill, Stella smirked to herself. Her partner really had a nice ass…

He figured he should be grateful to be still alive, after all that he'd sweated and the cold shower he'd had to endure in order to regain at least partial control over his over-reactive body.

Fastening the towel around his hips, he whistled a merry tune as he combed his hair in front of the small oval mirror in the changing room. He secretly hoped Stella had enjoyed the show he'd provided her as he worked on the weighs. She obviously hadn't worked out as much as himself did, and had stood by his side watching him for most of the time, only occasionally assisting him with the exercises, encouraging him. All in all, he'd guessed she'd had fun.

-Mac?-

He spun around, startled. Stella stood by the door, peeking inside with a sheepish expression, damp curls hanging loosely around her face. The man repressed the urge to bring his hands to cover his crotch.

-Do you, uh… do you have an hair-dryer? I didn't think about bringing one, figured they'd have one here…-, she wondered, trying not to stare at her partner's naked chest too much. Who could blame her, though? It was so firm, so smooth, his nipples still hardened after the shower… a cold one, perhaps?

-Err, yes. Let me get it. -, he replied, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, turning to go retrieve the item. Stella barely suppressed the sigh threatening to escape her lips at the sight of his towel-clad butt. She would die to have a chance to swat it, and squeeze it.

-Here. -, he handed her the small hair-dryer, shrugging as she raised a brow in mock at its Spartan fashion. What did she expect, for him to have a fully accessorized one with his short cropped hair? At any rate, she thanked him, then slowly stepped back.

-Do you need a hand?-, Mac called after her shoulders, surprising them both. –With your hair, I mean. I could, uh, help you. Make it quicker. -, he explained at her puzzled look, watching her eyes soften at his offer.

-Sure. You're sweet… I mean, it's sweet of you to offer. -, she quickly covered her slip up, grinning at him as his ears turned a burning pink. –Meet me up in the other locker room when you've dressed?-, she told him, mentally smirking at the thought that she'd gladly welcome him even with nothing on, not even that towel…


	5. Chapter 5

Hey there, thank you so much for your kind words! You guys rock my world! I'm trying really hard to make their evolving relationship natural and somewhat plausible, and it encourages me the fact that you seem to appreciate my effort, so thank you, once again! Now on with the story!

-I should let you dry my hair more often…-, Stella commented dreamily, still caught up in the sensation of Mac's fingers running gently through her curls. The man smiled, pleased with her words. They were headed towards his apartment, seeing as the woman had left all of her shopping bag there. She would also dine there, they had previously agreed, seeing as her fridge was dismally empty by her own admission.

-Sure, I'll be your personal hair dresser. -, he joked, causing his partner to chuckle. After a moment of silence, he dared wonder: -So, will we see you again at the gym?-

-Mmm, I don't know. I'd like to see the pool where you train before I decide. I might find that I like swimming better. -, she replied with a hint of sass and a definite smile in her voice.

-Now are you sure it's not you who wants to see me in my trunks?-, he bit back cockily, catching her by surprise. She looked at him with wide eyes, then, as he stopped to the red light, swatted his arm playfully.

-No way. We women don't do these things. -, she proclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest as if to settle the matter.

After dinner, they settled on the couch to watch the first of the _Resident Evil_ movies, a classic according to Stella. He didn't question the logic of seeing it after they'd watched the third one in the morning, as long as she remained with him they could even watch reruns of _Sex and the City_ and he would be fine with it.

She nestled comfortably against his side, gladly letting him circle her waist with an arm as she curled up her legs under her, thus ending up with her head on the crook of his neck. Something was definitely changing between them, but they weren't ready to address it with words yet. Stella already knew that Mac was a man of few words, even on his most romantic moments, yet he was proving with each passing moment how caring and supportive he could be. She liked this side of her partner, the cuddly one, and the fact that it was reserved just for her… it made it priceless, special, precious.

When they paused the film because, as the woman herself had so bluntly put it, she had to pee, Mac made a quick trip to the kitchen. He knew only too well how much the Greek woman loved red wine, and he'd just remembered, casually, of course, that he'd been storing a really good one somewhere in there…

-Mac, you tempt me…-, Stella said as the dark haired man presented her with a wineglass full of ruby liquor.

-I think we both deserve it. Taste a little, it should be good stuff. -, he said sincerely, handing her the glass. Their fingers brushed, and a shiver ran down the woman's spine as she settled down on the couch, soon followed by Mac himself. She took a tentative sip, then another; at the third, she moaned her delight.

-This is the best stuff! Mac, you're crazy, you just wasted a superb bottle…-, she protested, putting the glass down not to risk spilling the precious wine. Mac chuckled, imitating her gesture.

-And just who was I supposed to share it with? Danny? Don? _Sid_?-, he replied mockingly. –Or maybe Lindsay, so that I would have an angry husband on my hands?-, he added; somehow, it didn't seem fair to leave the younger woman out of the joke.

As they resumed the movie, a sudden thought occurred to Stella. –Hey, you drank as well! Now who's gonna bring me home?-

Mac shrugged his shoulders. –You can spend the night here. We'll take care of your things tomorrow morning. -, he replied.

-Mmm, always in the morning, uh? Just don't expect me to wake up at bloody five. -, she warned teasingly before going back to the warmth of the man's body just as Alice managed to kill yet another zombie.

Mac woke up to the irritating feeling of something slamming repeatedly against his stomach. He became aware of two facts at the same time: that it was Stella's arm that annoying thing punching him and that the alarm clock on his nightstand was crying for his attention.

-Make it stop, Mac…-, the curly haired woman mumbled, ceasing her attack and rolling on her stomach, pushing her head under the pillow. Still a bit disoriented, he reached with his arm for the nightstand and managed to hit the snooze button. He rolled to the other side so that he was facing Stella.

-We have to get up, you know?-, he said unnecessarily, shaking the woman's shoulder gently.

-Why? We're the bosses. We can go in a little late. -, she bit back, pushing him away unconvincingly. He chuckled at her words.

-Define a little?-, he teased, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up. She didn't oppose any resistance, but remained limp in his arms, so that Mac had to sustain most of her weigh. He quickly wound an arm across her shoulders, then placed the other on her abdomen to steady her.

-Come on, Stella, don't be childish. -, he admonished her, leading her to the kitchen. He busied himself with preparing breakfast, while Stella absentmindedly watched him move around. She could get used to this, she mused to herself; apart from the fact that she'd had to wake up half an hour before her usual time, that is. She had slept marvelously by Mac's side, a combination of tiredness from the afternoon at the gym and the unique feeling of safeness that she experienced every time she was in the man's presence.

As she spied him retrieve the infamous jar of honey from its secret place, she realized that she felt cherished by Mac. No other person, not even the lovers she'd had during the years, had ever managed to inspire that sensation in her, and, she suspected, no one had really, fully tried. He was the first, her first.

As soon as she hit the caffeine, she felt better. She started talking, or rather, her words started making some sense. She joked a bit, hoping to elicit a smile from her partner. She knew from his serious expression that she had scared him a few minutes before, when she'd complained so much about getting up; he couldn't know that she _really _wasn't a morning person, he'd never experienced one of her "early moods", as she like to call them, and she guessed it had spooked him a bit. Maybe he was wondering if he should let her rest, give her another day off. She didn't need one. She needed to be with him.

She smiled to herself as they finally hit the road. She had to think of something to make it up to him for all he had done for her, and it had to be good, special, meaningful. She was positive she'd eventually come up with something.

He'd left her alone as soon as their colleagues had started spilling in the room, wondering about her. He wanted to give her some space, after having spent several days practically in symbiosis, even if it pained him to do so. If things went his way, he'd never had to separate himself from Stella. She was the very essence of his whole life, the air he breathed, the mood he was in. She made him feel good; wanted, needed, appreciated, cared for, everything a person should feel.

Different cases kept them apart for the whole day, and when he passed by her office, he found it already empty and locked for the night. Sighing to himself, he headed towards his own office, trying not to dwell on the missed opportunity…

In truth, Stella had wanted nothing more than to return to the Lab and bid Mac goodnight in person, but she and Danny had finished really late; they'd taken his car, and seeing as the crime scene was not far away from her place, he'd offered to drop her home. She couldn't possibly come up with an excuse to decline his gentleness, not without giving something away. He'd guess her true intentions a mile away, just like she'd done when he had first started pursuing Lindsay.

So, there she was, alone in her apartment. In the back of her mind, she knew sleep would not come easily, but she hid under the covers of her bed anyway, settling for replaying the moments spent with Mac in her head, hoping that would calm her enough to lull her to drowsiness, at the very least.

The night before, there had not been the need to ask where she would sleep. In his bed, with him. They had both went on with their own rituals, then met up in Mac's bedroom. It had not been as awkward as she would have figured, maybe because they'd already slept together for a couple of nights. He had claimed his usual side as his own, letting her know where he wanted her, and that had been it. They'd crawled under the covers, bid each other goodnight and fallen asleep in a matter of minutes.

Not that night. In the opposite side of the city, Mac Taylor realized the same thing at the exact same time as his partner. He was used to insomnia, but the past few nights, oh!, the past few nights… how good it had been, falling asleep in a woman's arms. In Stella's arms. His sheets still smelled like her, comforting him as he tried to fall asleep. In the middle of the night, he changed his pillow, hugging the one that had sustained the sweet weight of his partner's head the night before; only then he surrendered to a faint slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

My God, just finished my exam period… now on with the lessons! Sometimes I just hate real life… That's what fanfictions are for, right? Hope you enjoy…

-My God, Stella!-, Lindsay exclaimed upon entering the locker room, startling her colleague, who dropped her concealer on the floor. –Rough night?-, she wondered in a gentler tone, approaching her friend. Stella shrugged her shoulders, picking up the fallen item and once again starting applying it to try and conceal the bags under her eyes.

-I just had a hard time falling asleep, that's all. -, she replied, concentrating on her task. –Don't worry, I'll be fine. -, she added, glancing at the younger woman and offering a small smile. _I just need a massive amount of coffee to get through the day!_, she thought to herself.

When she entered her office, she had to smile. A gigantic plastic cup sat on her desk, faint traces of steam surrounding it, and there was only one person who could have known that she'd not only enjoy it, but truly needed it. _Thank you, Mac!_

That got her thinking. She was on desk duty anyway, since she had tons of paperwork to get through; that usually did not require to use much brain, thus giving her the perfect opportunity to start planning her own token of affection towards her boss. She could ask him for dinner, she mused. Yeah, a nice home cooked meal. Or maybe… a fancy restaurant? Would that be overdoing it? That would probably scare him away… okay, her place. What was she supposed to cook, though? She was not much of a cook, there were only a small number of dishes that she'd successfully mastered… a Greek dish, perhaps?

_Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Bonasera. First thing first: ask him!_, she told herself when it became clear she was not able to make up her mind by herself. She would ask him, talk about it with him for a while and maybe then things would get a bit clearer…

-Hey, Mac. You busy?-, she wondered, peeking her head inside his office. He raised his head from his own share of papers, smiling at her.

-Come in, Stella. I could use a break from all this nonsense. -, he told her gently, setting the pen down and relaxing back on his chair. The woman nodded, then stepped into the room, walking to the desk and sitting down in front of her long time friend.

-Thank you for the coffee, I needed it. -, she began with a grateful smile, to which he responded in kind.

-You're welcome. I had a feeling you would. -, he replied somewhat mysteriously. How exactly he had figured, she did not dare ask. Stella did not let that thought sidetrack her, and went for the kill.

-So I was thinking… I'd like to cook you a thank you dinner, you know, for all you did for me lately. Are you by any chance free this evening?-, she wondered lightly, smiling in a rather flirty way without really noticing it. Her mischievously sparkling eyes turned worried, though, when she caught the first traces of remorse on her handsome partner's face._ He doesn't want to come, he wants out! Oh my God, I can't believe it!_, her mind screamed, horrified at the thought of having just made a fool of herself.

-Ah, Stella, I would have liked to join you for dinner… that's not to say that you owe me in any way…-, he started babbling, passing a hand around his neck in a nervous gesture. –Truth is, I already promised the guys I would make an appearance tonight…-

_The guys? Oh!_, Stella's mind went from blank to clear in a matter of seconds. –You're playing at Cozy's tonight. -, she supplied. He nodded. –That's okay, we can reschedule it…-, she offered, appeased that he was not trying to avoid her.

-Or you could come with me. -, Mac bit back, surprising her. –If you don't mind, you could watch me play and then we could order something to eat and a couple of drinks. -, he further elaborated, trying to embellish his offer. He needn't say more, Stella nodded her head yes enthusiastically.

-Sure! Come find me in my office when you're ready to go!-

He had been amazing, just like every other time she'd come watching him play. He had changed from his work clothes, his trademark suit, into a pair of comfortable looking trousers, a black T-shirt and a dark jumper; it was as if he'd morphed from super-hero cop to regular guy, and Stella particularly liked this side of him, cozier, more approachable and definitely safer.

She had watched intently the play of his fingers on the chords of his shining black bass guitar, all the while thinking what other things they'd be able to do if given the opportunity… the thought had made her blush several shades of red, but she didn't care. She would not justify herself because she was curious about her partner, even if it was in a sexual way. She was bound to ask herself that sort of things sooner or later, after all the time they'd spent together. She was naturally curious, and he was a considerably big part of her life.

_You're just making up excuses, Bonasera, something you've just told yourself you would not do!_

-Stella…-, Mac's voice made her jump slightly on her chair. She raised her eyes to meet his just as he sat down in front of her, the table between them. -… we weren't too bad, were we? You didn't get bored?-, he inquired, searching her eyes. The woman panicked momentarily. Why would he think that she was bored?

_Maybe because you were miles away and didn't even notice that he'd stopped playing and fended the crowd to reach you!_, her brain supplied. _Oh._

-Of course not, Mac. You were pretty amazing, I just… a sudden thought had just occurred to me. -, she offered somewhat truthfully. Mac raised an eyebrow in his typical Detective-fashion, but apart from a: -Something you'd like to share?-, he didn't press the matter.

Stella shrugged. –Someday, maybe, if I manage to figure it out enough by myself. -, she answered with a smile, something which seemed to calm Mac's over reactive brain.

-So, what are you in the mood for?-, he wondered, changing the subject, something which the woman felt grateful for. She pondered about the question for a bit, then made up her mind.

-Will you share a chef salad and chicken Cacciatore?-, she asked hopefully.

-Sure, anything you want. –

In the end, the waitress brought them, along with the aforementioned dishes, French fries, bread and two glasses of red wine, Stella's favorite. She scowled as Mac brought the first fry to his mouth.

-It's not healthy. -, she commented. The former Marine shot her an amused look. –What?-, she dared him to contradict her.

-Nothing, it's just that usually, when you complain about food not being healthy for me, you want it for yourself. -, he replied dryly, offering the long fry currently in his hand to the woman. She smiled and leaned forward, stealing half of it from his fingers, leaving faint traces of her lipstick on the remaining. Chuckling, Mac popped it into his mouth, chewing as he smiled.

-Wanna come up? I found one of the jumpers you bought the other day hidden under some of my purchases…-, Stella offered innocently after Mac had successfully driven her home. He shrugged.

-Sure, if it's not a problem. -, he replied, clearly referring to her lack of sleep and the current time of the night. She blinded him with one of her smiles.

-Of course, I wouldn't have asked otherwise. -, she said, gently taking his hand in hers to lead him to her apartment. He joined her more than willingly, smiling as her fingers stubbornly refused to leave his, as if they had been glued together. He did not despise the thought at all, he mused to himself.

He deposited his bass guitar, which he had not dared leave in his truck, in a corner of Stella's living-room as the woman changed into something more comfortable in her bedroom, then sat down on the couch, waiting for her. It didn't take her long, and as her grey sweatpants left her more room to move, she curled up like a cat against Mac's side, tucking her legs under her bottom as she sighed contentedly. The man ran his fingers gently across her face, reaching for her curls, which he stroked lovingly.

-Are you tired?-, he wondered after a while, silently asking if he should leave.

-Yes, but… I don't know if I want to fall asleep. I mean, I want to, but…-, the woman replied softly, struggling with the words. Luckily for her, Mac immediately picked up on her meaning.

-Dreams?-, he inquired in a whisper, fearing calling them with their real name, _nightmares_, would upset her. He felt his partner nod against his shoulder.

-It's silly, because I've been fine until yesterday. -, she mumbled a bit embarrassedly as her mind screamed_ yes, because you were there with me, holding me!_ –I was thinking back to the movie we watched the other day, and unexpectedly the zombies falling to the ground was Professor P's body… Mac, I… he was like a father to me!-, she cried in exasperation, burying her face deeper into the man's clavicle. He hugged her tighter than ever before, sneaking an arm around her shoulders to better support her as she stubbornly refused to give in to the prickling in her tightly shut eyes.

-Hush, Stella. He wouldn't want to see you so sad. -, he murmured, slightly rocking her as he held her.

-Mac…-, she chuckled tremulously. –What would I do without you?-

-That's not for you to worry about. You'll never find out. -, he replied, placing a quick kiss to her temple.


	7. Chapter 7

Hola everyone, here's the next chapter. By the end of this, would you be so kind as to let me know whether I should make them progress to the next level (romance ) or keep the profile low for a while longer? I haven't decided yet…

Enjoy and leave a comment!

Mac woke up to a powerful sneeze. Apparently, Stella's curls had rubbed against his nose one too many times.

-Bless you. -, the woman mumbled, hugging his torso as she rubbed herself against his chest, stretching slightly as she turned on top of him.

-Stella?-, the former Marine asked groggily, wrapping his arms around her waist in fears of dropping her to the floor.

-Mac?-, she replied, finally opening her eyes to gaze into his warm blue ones. He started chuckling, immediately imitated by the woman.

-We really should quit sleeping on the couch. I'm sure your back is killing you now. -, Stella laughed, raising to a sitting position and drawing Mac up as well.

-But that's the best sleep we've both had in weeks, isn't it?-, he bit back sincerely, looking softly into her eyes. The woman was taken aback by this sudden moment of openness, almost to the point of vulnerability, that it took her a moment to answer that.

-Yes. Yes, it is. -, she confessed, equally sincere, gracing the man with a small tentative smile.

-Then I'm glad. -, he replied, returning the smile.

She had slept, alright, but that didn't automatically imply that she'd be more concentrated at work than the previous day. Quite the opposite, in fact. Thoughts about Mac plagued her all day, and she found herself daydreaming more than once during the long hours of paperwork. She was grateful that they had no calls out, she was not sure what would have happened then. She'd have compromised the case for sure, or worse yet, Mac could have caught her staring… at his eyes, his lips, his jaw, his arms, his chest… everything. Every single inch of his body would be her undoing.

-Stella, are you alright? You're really starting to scare me…-, Lindsay's voice brought her back to reality, making her jump slightly on the chair. _Crap, I'm so busted…_

-I'm fine, Linds, I just have a lot on my mind right now. -, the older woman replied in her most convincing tone, smiling at her colleague, who raised a skeptical eyebrow at that.

-Are you sure? I've never seen you so absentminded, not at work anyway, not even when…-, Lindsay did not dare utter Stella's ex's name, Frankie, for fear of worsening the situation by bringing back bad memories. –Are you… having nightmares? Are you feeling… sad?-, she inquired. Stella had to laugh at that, puzzling Lindsay even more. She was really starting to believe the older woman had gone nuts when she started to explain.

-No, Lindsay, I'm not feeling sad. Not at the moment anyway, and that's part of the problem. -, she said somewhat mysteriously, fueling the Montana girl's curiosity even more.

-What do you mean? I think it's great you're not feeling depressed!-, she exclaimed, eliciting an incredulous look from the curly haired woman. –Too cheerful?-, she wondered. At the other's nod, she tried to school her features into a more somber expression.

-Seriously, Stella, you're not making much sense. What's wrong?-, she asked with a solemn expression. Stella sighed. She was bound to tell someone sooner or later, or else she seriously risked exploding.

-It's Mac. -, she briefly confessed. Lindsay's eyebrows shot almost to the hairline.

-What about him? Are you wondering why he went after you in Greece?-, she guessed. Not ready to admit yet what about her partner was really bothering her, the Greek woman nodded, if somewhat dubiously. At any rate, her younger colleague didn't seem to notice, and bought her motivation.

-He was the most logical choice among any of us, Stella. He's known you the longer, knows how to deal with political crap at least some and he's rather intimidating when he wants to be. He was perfect for covering your shoulders abroad. -, she reasoned easily, enumerating her points with her fingers. Then, her distant gaze focused like a laser beam on Stella's green eyes. –What's the big deal anyway? Are you not glad that Mac followed you to another continent? Most women would die to have a man do something like that for them. -, she added. At that, the older woman finally exploded.

-That's the exact point, Lindsay! _Most women would die to have a man do something like that for them_, except that Mac is not my man! -, she almost shouted, gesticulating wildly with her hands before she realized exactly what she'd said. _I revealed too much!_, her panicked mind screamed at her.

Lindsay's eyes widened at the implication of her friend's words. –So that's what bothers you…-, she whispered, utterly awed. Stella stubbornly tried denying it, tried to take her words back.

-No, Lindsay, I… look, Mac is sending me all kinds of different signals, and… and… and I him, I think, but… the problem is, I don't know how to interpret them…-, she tried to explain, obviously failing miserably because the younger woman in front of her felt the need to ask: -His signals, or yours?-

Stella growled in frustration, her fingers tangling in the mass of her golden curls. –_His_, Lindsay! I don't know what he wants from me, if he's just being extra sweet towards me because I had a crappy month or… or he wants to… to pursue something… different. -, she couldn't bring herself to say the words. _If he wants to pursue me, a romantic relationship with me._

-But you're sure about what you want from him, mmm?-, Lindsay pointed out smartly, paraphrasing the other woman's previous words. The latter sighed.

-Yes. -, she confessed, with a gravity that made her look exhausted, saddened even.

-Then make it clear to him. Whatever you want from him, make it clear to him. Talk to him plainly. He will not hurt you, Stella, not if he can help it. -, the smaller woman advised the other, who looked dubious at best.

-And if he can't help it?-, she almost whined. Lindsay shrugged.

-Then he'll let you down gently, and you'll know for sure that you have to move on from him for good. -, she summarized. Stella still looked all but convinced, but for her mental sake, feigned to agree with her friend's words and tried to go on with her life…

Failing miserably. She couldn't stay away from Mac, physically and mentally, for too long, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

-Hey, Mac, what about that dinner, tonight?-, she asked without preamble, stepping into her boss's office with confident strides. Mac raised his eyes from the desk to meet hers, smiling gently at her directness.

-Again I tell you: it's not necessary. But if you insist…-, he replied with a grin, inviting the woman to sit in front of him. –What did you have in mind?-, he wondered curiously, wanting to get at least a partial idea of what the evening would hold. Stella shrugged her shoulders elegantly.

-Nothing fancy. Dinner at my place. -, she said easily, gauging his reaction at her words. His small smile widened.

-Okay, I can definitely do _not fancy_. -, he bit back, causing the curly haired Detective to roll her eyes.

-Oh, I know, Mr. Hot-Dog. -, she chuckled sarcastically. Mac scowled at her.

-You could have stopped at Hot, you know…-, he mumbled under his breath.

-Open your mouth, Mac. -, Stella instructed as she held the fork to the former Marine's lips. He parted them diligently, letting the woman place the morsel in his mouth; he started chewing as soon as the prongs slid out his lips.

-Mmm, Stella, this is good. Best fish I've ever tasted. -, he praised his partner, who blushed a becoming pink.

-Oh, hush you. You're only saying that because you've eaten fish a handful of times in your life. -, she bit back good-naturedly, returning to the counter.

-I'll let you know that I like fish, it's just that I don't have many occasions to eat it. If you want it to taste good, you have to work on it and I usually don't have the time. The frozen stuff is just not as good. -, he replied convincingly, his reasoning faultless.

-Okay, you have a point. But it's healthy, you should eat it more often. -, Stella commented absentmindedly as she stirred the fish on the pan.

-Well, we should have dinner together more often, then. That would give me the motivation to put the necessary effort into cooking it the proper way. -, Mac reasoned, startling the woman out of her own musings about spices and time of cooking. She gave him a funny look before returning her attention to their dinner, an expression so peculiar on her face that the man felt compelled to ask: -Did I say something wrong?-

-Only if you don't really mean it. -, Stella replied seriously, thinking to herself that she could not get more explicit than that in her acceptance of his subtle courting. If that indeed was his way of courting her, of course.

-Why wouldn't I mean it?-, Mac wondered, his brows furrowed in confusion. Stella silently fumed to herself; never a straight answer from that irritating man! Not really knowing what to say, and fearing what could escape from her lips, the woman refused to reply, concentrating instead on serving the fish and the vegetables on the table.

Dinner was a quiet and awkward affair. Mac had realized fairly quickly that his words had somehow offended Stella, but he failed to understand why. Until then, he had been pretty sure that his partner had been enjoying his attentions so far; had he overstepped his boundaries by testing the waters for semi-permanent and somewhat regular plans?

-Stella, I… I'm sorry. -, the words left his mouth before he could notice and prevent them.

-Why?-, the woman inquired, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Not really knowing what to say, the dark haired man shrugged his shoulders.

-I'm, uh… I'm not sure. I mean, I obviously did something which didn't please you, but… what did I do?-, he replied, his answer turning into a question as he fixed confused but hopeful eyes upon his partner's face. She sighed in frustration.

-See? That's the problem. You're unsure of yourself when it comes to this…-, she mumbled, the last part of the sentence barely above a whisper.

-_This_, Stella? You mean… you and I?-, he guessed, apparently rightfully if her solemn nod was any indication. –But… you are supposed to set the pace. I'm just trying to… to please you, I guess. -, he confessed honestly, puzzling Stella even more.

-Why am I the one supposed to set the pace?-, she asked, anger brewing under the surface of her emotions. –And why would you want to please me so… so… so passively?-, she added with an hint of reproach in her tone. Mac looked bewildered at her.

-Because _you _have just undergone a traumatic experience, not me. I… I care deeply about you, Stell. I wanted to show you. -, he said sincerely, with conviction, his gaze never faltering.

-Why? I'm fine. I'm not gonna leave the Lab, nor the city. -, the woman protested stubbornly, willing the man to confess something more decisive.

-I'm glad to hear that, but I won't leave you just because you told me that. That's what we do, remember? We're partners, we take care of each other. You took good care of me when I lost Claire; I'm trying to do the same now. -, the former Marine retorted, raising to his feet to clear the table, Stella hot on his heels as he headed to the kitchen.

-You don't have to. -, she rebuffed, causing Mac to shake his head in amazement.

-I know. Neither did you back then. We wanted to. We still want to. We'll stick with each other 'til our last breath on this Earth, Stella. I know it will be so for me. I don't function well when we're apart anyway…-, he replied with amusement in his voice despite the fact that he was deadly serious.

-This means you'll spend the night here?-, the woman inquired, adopting the same strategy as the man as she graced him with a small smile.

-I'd like that, if you want me to. We both seem to sleep better with this arrangement. -, he answered with a small smile of his own


	8. Chapter 8

Hi everyone, sorry for the delay, but I had a slight case of writer's block. I contemplated cutting the story short, but I owe Mac and Stella, and you, my readers, something better, don't you think? Anyway, let me know what you think, okay? Many thanks to all who have reviewed, you guys give me reasons to keep writing!

Enjoy.

Mac felt nervous. He should have gone running _after_ he had bought the darn cookies, but then he wouldn't have had the time to shower and prepare breakfast for Stella. He had woken up early as usual; not even she could break the habit he'd taken up during his time in the Marines. The only difference was that he'd fallen asleep as soon as he'd hit the pillow, Stella in his arms, and had remained still and peaceful until morning.

He wanted more from her, from their current relationship. He wanted them to become… lovers? Sweethearts? A couple? An item? One. He wanted them to become one. He already lived through her; he had ceased being an autonomous being when the Towers fell. He had come to a point where he lived through the day only in hopes to be rewarded at the end of it with her presence, be it dinner, the movies, a chat in his office; anything, really. Anything which involved her.

That was why he'd decided to buy those blasted cookies. Chocolate hearts, really, could he get more obvious than that? Apart from uttering the words, that is. He couldn't bring himself to do that, not when he still pretty much ignored what she thought about it. About them. Her reaction the previous night had confused him. He had thought… he'd thought she'd want the same as him, but now… she was sending him mixed signals. When he had hinted, she'd retreated as if burned. Maybe she regarded him as a friend only? Maybe, if given the possibility, she'd chose to have him as a friend with benefit only? After all, they had not become a couple yet after years, more than a decade, spent together as working partners, friends and confidantes… people talked, and he had often wondered as well. She had always been affectionate towards him, but never given him solid evidence that she wanted something more from him.

Maybe she'd been waiting for an overture from his part? Judging from the sounds coming from the woman's bedroom, he was about to find out.

-Mac?-, she called, disoriented, the former Marine guessed, since she had not found him in bed with her.

-In the kitchen, Stell. Breakfast's ready. -, he called back, trying with all his might to steady his nerves. When the woman stuck her head inside the room, he felt his lips automatically curl into a smile, which she returned quickly. Entering fully in the kitchen, she took a chance to study the table and immediately became intrigued with the cookies.

Mac was going to implode, should he fail to say or do something. On an impulse, he grabbed one of the chocolate hearts and presented it to the curly woman standing in front of him; upon realizing what it was, a broad smile curved her luscious lips and she gladly let the man feed it to her.

-Mmm, best awakening ever. -, she praised his small work, smiling at him with a soft look in her eyes. She approached her partner and, raising on her tiptoes, placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, one which lingered for a solid couple of seconds. There was no mistaking the meaning behind her gesture and, fully grasping it, the dark haired man beamed at her, inwardly rejoicing at his luck.

-You know what could make it all better?-, Stella purred, caressing his cheek. His only response was a low rumbling sound, his eyes totally focused on the play of her fingers on his skin. –Finding you right next to me when I wake up…-, she murmured in his ear, causing him to shiver slightly.

-Next time. -, Mac assured her, sneaking an arm around her waist. –I'll even bring you breakfast in bed, darlin'. -, he added with a chuckle. Stella's eyes lit up at the offer.

-Thank you. -, she whispered, quickly pecking his lips with her own.

Later that same day, Stella quickly stepped into Mac's office, hoping to catch him on his way out. Only, he was not there. That displeased her more than it should have, she realized upon studying the empty room. A bright spot on his otherwise black computer screen caught her attention; a post-it.

_I had to get away from here. Sinclair. I'll explain later. If you want, meet me at this address, I'll probably remain there 'til half past eight. Mac xxx_

Narrowing her eyes in concentration, the woman tried to locate the address in the city with her mind, but to no veil. It didn't strike her as anything particular. Shrugging, she turned on her heels, crumpling the tiny piece of paper in her hands before dumping it on the recycle bin on her way out. She was gonna find out.

A swimming pool, she realized, shaking her head in amazement. That man never ceased to amaze her. Once she had parked her car, she got out and quickly found the entrance to the building. She checked her watch. _Mac should still be swimming_. Figuring the best place to go first were the bleachers, she followed the directions until she could comfortably survey the pool.

Only one person was exercising, and that did not surprise her much. It was Saturday evening, it already was a wonder that the place was open in the first place. Quietly, she sat down, admiring the way Mac's body cut through the blue water. Where did he find the energy?, she wondered.

She counted thirty-two lengths before he stopped.

-Mac!-, she exclaimed, a little frightened by how her voice resonated in the enclosed space. It served her purpose, though, as Mac, who was carefully removing the excess of water from his hair, turned towards her, a smile already stretching his lips.

-Stella. -, he greeted the woman. -Have you been here for long?-, he wondered, seemingly not bothered by the fact that he was standing bare-chested in front of her, dripping water all around him. Stella shook her head no. He gave her a sheepish smile.

-Would you mind waiting a bit more? A shower won't take me long. –

Showered, perfumed and freshly dressed, Mac Taylor made his way towards his waiting partner, meeting her at the entrance door. The two Detectives smiled at each other, then Stella stepped forwards and, raising on her tiptoes, placed a kiss upon the man's cheek.

-I was hoping you'd come find me. -, he told her softly, grasping her hand.

-Here I am. Nice display, by the way. -, the woman sassed, causing Mac's ears to turn a burning red as she stroked his chest. –You amaze me, Mac. You have a subscription at the gym a_nd_ here?-, she wondered, looking up at her partner.

-It's not a real subscription, I paid for a number of entries. I needed to cool my head off. -, he explained with a pained expression on his face. Taking hold of his bare wrist, Stella made the man look at her.

-Everything's okay, now. Why don't we grab a bite to eat and you tell me what Sinclair said that pissed you off?-, she offered, squeezing his hand lightly. He nodded slowly, as if even thought the decision had already been made, he still had to ponder over it. Finally, he muttered a yes and let his partner led him to her car.

Figuring the entertainment provided by unusual food would help him take his mind off his preoccupations, Stella had parked the black SUV in front of her favorite sushi place. She knew Mac was not a fan of Japanese cuisine, but he didn't exactly despise it either.

Even if she was familiar with the place and the man was not, it was him who led her to a table of his choice; the most intimate one, Stella noticed, placed against the wall on the farthest corner of the room, with a single cushioned double chair, almost a sofa, facing two more modest wooden chairs.

She wasn't surprised by the fact that her partner let her chose her seat; she was not prepared, though, for him to slid in the booth _next_ to her, and not sit _in front_ of her. Shocked, but pleasantly so, she drew him even closer to her, circling his waist.

They postponed any talk concerning work until the dishes were agreed upon. Stella had a hard time convincing Mac to order raw fish, resulting in a light banter which lasted for several minutes.

-We are having prawns, and that's final!-, sentenced Mac. His partner rolled her eyes in exasperation.

-That's so very unoriginal, Mac! Live a little. -, she mocked him, causing him to cross his arms and to jokingly pull a long face.

-You ordered sashimi alright? Then I'm having prawns and vegetables. –

Order placed, they stared at each other awkwardly for a couple of seconds before Mac cleared his throat and began to speak.

-I basically got an earful because I followed you to Greece. That, and because I gave you your badge back. -, he said, avoiding Stella's eyes, which widened in shock.

-Sinclair wanted you to fire me?-, she asked incredulously. Mac nodded solemnly, stiffly, as if actually uttering the words would hurt him.

-He never misses an excuse to try and get rid of us. -, he commented with a shrug, then, unexpectedly, his face broke into a wide grin. –I told him he could go to hell. –

-You did what?-, Stella almost shouted, then lowered her voice upon realizing what she'd said. –Are you mad? He could have fired you as well!-, she protested vehemently, instinctively touching Mac's upper arm. He just smirked.

-If you go, I go as well. That's the rule. -, he replied calmly, eyes boring into Stella's.

-Mac, you don't know what you're saying. -, the woman retorted, shaking her head vigorously. –The job is your life!-, she exclaimed.

-No, Stella. -, he quickly contradicted her. –You, you are my life. I don't function well without you by my side. I wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat, wouldn't smile, wouldn't laugh… I wouldn't live. -, he told her earnestly, baring his heart, his very soul, to his partner, whose eyes were shining with unshed tears. She clasped his hands convulsively, like a drowning man hanging onto something, anything, for dear life.

-Do you realize what you're saying? Do you?-, Stella chocked on her words, not daring to believe her own ears. Mac nodded curtly, then leant forward in his seat to envelope the woman's body in a hug.

-Of course, Stell. I… I love you. -


	9. Chapter 9

Am I good or am I good, as Adam would say? Here's the next chapter; I'm not sure how many more there will be, probably a couple or just one, according to my muse. At any rate, I have plenty of ideas for other stories, so don't worry, you'll definitely hear more from me! For now, though, drop a comment and let me know what you think…

Enjoy.

-Mac? Please, handsome, will you let me have one of your prawns tempura?-, Stella drawled in her best seductive tone, riding her foot up and down Mac's leg. The man smiled sardonically, moving the dish away from the woman's grasp.

-Nice try, Miss Adventure. I'm sorry, but you'll have to do with your sashimi. -, he replied, picking up one of the prawns and bringing it to his lips.

-Aww, Mac, that's not fair!-, the curly haired woman protested, lightly elbowing Mac in the ribs. He smirked.

-All's fair in love and war, Miss Bonasera. -, he stated, presenting Stella with the half eaten morsel. Smiling in triumph, she gladly let the former Marine feed her the prawn, then licked her lips with a satisfied expression.

-Mmm, I think I like this kind of war. -, she purred, scooting closer to Mac and patting his side. Expertly handling the chopsticks, she picked up a slice of raw tuna and gave it to her partner as a reward for his earlier gesture. He made a face, but chewed and forced the piece down his throat.

-Next time pick up some rice as well, okay?-

-So you ate half of my prawns. Now I want something in return. I'm not counting the sashimi, since I didn't particularly like it. -, Mac stated, placing the wallet in the back pocket of his trousers. Stella's eyes widened slightly in shock: it was not like him at all to be so forward…

-Do you have something in mind?-, she asked in anticipation, breath suddenly coming in short hiccups. He nodded.

-Yeah. I want to go dancing with you. -, he said, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from his partner.

-Dancing? Mac, you hate dancing!-, she reminded him. He smiled, shaking his head.

-I hate dancing while in office capacity, there's a difference. I'm not the best of dancers, but I enjoy a couple of songs from time to time. -, he replied simply. Seemingly convinced, Stella nodded her head enthusiastically.

-Sure, I'd love to!-, she squealed excitedly.

-Stell, what's gotten you in such a happy mood?-, Lindsay wondered with a small grin, observing her female partner from the doorway. Stella beamed at her friend, then, quickly looking around for snoopers, spilled her secret.

-Mac's taking me dancing this Tuesday. -, she said joyously.

-Mac? Mac Taylor? Our boss?-, the younger woman checked, eyebrow raised in surprise. At Stella's nod, the creased between her brows smoothened noticeably.

-I take it you two talked?-, she guessed.

-If you consider me verbally assaulting him, and Mac trying to defend himself, then yes, we talked. -, the curly haired woman replied with a self deprecating shrug. Lindsay's mouth rearranged itself to form a small 'o'.

-Then how in the world did it end so well?-, she inquired, then: -Don't tell me, you two…-, she added, leaving the sentence hanging as she gave her colleague a suggestive look.

-God, Lindsay, no! Mac's been a real sweetheart, really patient with me, even when I was particularly nasty to him. He just… I don't know, he was so willing to please me. Don't laugh, but he bought me heart shaped cookies. -, Stella confessed, cheeks coloring slightly at her last sentence.

-Laughing? Stella, I think that's the most adorable thing I've ever heard!-, the Montana girl squealed, hugging her friend in a spontaneous manifestation of joy, thus causing the latter to giggle.

-So, are you two… together?-, Lindsay asked once she had recomposed herself. Stella shrugged.

-I don't know. We just established that we're both in love. –

Stella delighted in the feel of Mac's large hands delicately placed on her lower back, glued to her body as she gently shook her hips to the rhythm. The low cadence allowed her to abandon her head upon the man's chest, and she had gladly done so as soon as the song had started.

It couldn't have been a coincidence, he wasn't a particularly lucky person. He must have known that that night the DJ would have played songs from the Seventies and Eighties. She couldn't picture her partner trying to dance to more modern beats.

As the song slowly came to a hand, Stella was startled from her little bubble o happiness, inside which only her and Mac existed, by a hand on her wrist.

-Hey, dude. Do you mind if I have the next dance with your lovely partner?-, a sandy brown haired man in his late thirties, possibly early forties, asked Mac, never once taking his eyes off the woman in his arms. Stella felt Mac's posture stiffen and his arms tighten around her way before he spoke.

-Actually, I do. I'm a very jealous boyfriend. Sorry, mate. -, he quickly dismissed the bloke, subtly leading Stella away from him. She laughed, filled with warm joy from head to toe by his sudden possessiveness.

-So you're jealous, uh?-, she whispered in his hear, pressing her body closer to his as she raised to her tiptoes to do that.

-Madly. -, Mac growled, sharply grinding his pelvis against Stella's, thus eliciting a small gasp from the woman. She bit her lower lip, slipping her fingers under the former Marine's shirt to stroke his bare hips, her thumbs faintly tracing the contours of his abs.

-I'm glad. I'm not particularly keen on the idea of another man sweeping me off my feet. I only trust you. -, she purred, raising her head to meet Mac's lips in a deep kiss.

They forgot everything about the music; in fact, everything around them disappeared, only the other mattered. Mac felt the woman's exploring hands crawling up his body, fighting against his tight shirt, just as Stella let the tantalizing warmth of the man's arms enveloping her overcome her senses. His lips were tin but firm, the curly haired woman discovered with delight, and caused all kinds of delicious sensations to spread from her mouth to the rest of her body; his kisses were passionate, not at all timid, yet not demanding: he was ready to break them when she so decided, but until they were going, boy, did he want to enjoy them. Every moment was precious.

He rubbed an arm over her lower back, against the expose skin, then lower, lower, stroking, cupping; a whimper escaped Stella's lips as Mac crossed his wrists over her bottom, his knuckles brushing against it as they swayed to the music.

As the man's tongue delicately traced the contours of the woman's lips, she moaned, opening her mouth to welcome his sweet assault as she raised her arms to stroke Mac's neck. He repositioned his arms as well, following the shape of her hips until he reached her breasts.

-Mac…-, she gasped as she instantly felt her nipples harden at his featherlike touch. Instinctively, she leaned into it, pushing her chest higher to meet the man's able fingers.

-I love you, Stell. -, he mumbled in between kisses, brushing his hard chest against the woman's, suddenly wishing there weren't so many layers of clothes between them.

-I need you, Mac…-, Stella mumbled incoherently, offering her bare throat to the man.

He slammed her back against the living-room's wall, bending slightly to pick her up, hands supporting the meeting point between tights and ass. She panted, gladly crossing her ankles behind the man's back to support herself, giving Mac the opportunity to further explore her body.

-I've been dying to divest you of this blasted shirt all night long, Mac. Not that it's not sexy, by the way. -, Stella mumbled in between fervent kisses, her nimble fingers working their magic on the former Marine's black shirt. He snorted.

-Really? I've been dying to take off your damned low cut tops since you started wearing them. They drive me absolutely nuts. -, he growled, sucking on a tender spot on the woman's neck for better emphasis. She laughed despite the shiver running down her spine.

-I've always worn them, Mac. -, she reminded him.

-Exactly. -, he deadpanned, fingering the light material of Stella's shirt. –As your boss, I should punish you for the way you made me suffer, Stell. You're wicked. -, he whispered, licking the hollow of her breasts, thus eliciting a gasp of surprise and pleasure from the woman. –See, Stella? I've always dreamt of doing that. Seeing you every day and not being able to touch you makes me suffer inside. I want to be with you every moment of the day. -, he confessed, freeing his partner of the aforementioned shirt, throwing it behind his back, on the floor of his apartment.

-Oh, yes, Mac! Every moment of the day, for the rest of our lives. -, she repeated, sensuously stroking the man's hard pectorals, drawing him in for a blistering kiss. –Make love to me…-, she pleaded, whispering the words directly in his ear after a few moments of nibbling and the flickering of her tongue inside his auricle.

-Are you completely sure, Stella? There will be no turning back after we complete our union. We will be one. -, he stated seriously, looking deep into the woman's eyes. She nodded, cupping the back of his head, running her fingers across his short dark hair.

-We've been one for a long time. -, she breathed, still caressing his head and neck.

-Then, it will be my pleasure. -, he said simply before carrying his lover to his bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

This is the end. Hope you will enjoy this last chapter, it took me a couple of days to come up with it… I'm still not sure about the first part, where they… well, you'll know once you read it. Let me know what you think?

Bye for now, but you'll heard from me again, hopefully very soon!

Eli

He deposited her softly upon the covers, positioning his knees at both sides of her body; Stella didn't waste a second as her fingers quickly found the clasp of Mac's belt, eliciting a small appreciative grunt from the man. He reclaimed her mouth in a bruising kiss, his hands tangling in her curls as she made quick work of his belt.

-Mmm… Mac…-, she purred, brushing her palms against Mac's hard chest as he divested himself from his black jeans. –Why did I never rip the shirt off your chest?-, she wondered aloud, flipping them over so that the man was now lying under her. She lowered her face, letting her tongue flicker to playfully lick Mac's navel, then went up his chest, following the line dividing his abs, moistening it with her saliva.

Unexpectedly, she shifted her attention to his left nipple, teething it hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from her lover. Shuddering, he jumped lightly to embrace Stella, making their bodies adhere so much that she felt his muscles stretch under her abdomen; he flipped them over again, repositioning himself on top of his partner, smirking down at her.

-If you recall, I should be the one doing the punishing, not the other way round, so don't bite, Stella. -, he ordered, reaching with his hands for the woman's back with the intent of unclasping her bra.

-This is nice…-, he commented, brushing the lace of the garment between his fingertips before throwing it behind his shoulders. -…but you won't need it. -, he added, lightly tracing the swell of Stella's breasts with his forefinger, having her sigh at the touch. She squirmed, and he knew she was ticklish there. Grinning devilishly, he lowered his head so that he was facing the woman's side and slowly, oh so slowly, licked the most sensitive spot, just below her armpit.

-Oww… ah!-, the curly haired woman gasped, wriggling under Mac's body. If he was able to have her panting without as much as touching her, what would he manage to do to her once their union was complete?

Stella barely managed to finish the thought before her brain registered the fact that Mac had moved his hands to the zipper of her pants. She raised her eyes to meet his; she nodded resolutely at the questioning look she found there, and silently helped him disentangle her legs from the dark garment.

They kissed again, and Mac's desire for the woman lying beneath him was more evident than ever, the bulge still restrained by his boxers pressing deliciously against Stella's lower abdomen.

-Stella, I need you…-, Mac confessed in a whisper, almost ashamed to show his need for her.

-Then take me, Mac. I'm yours, I've always been yours, even when we both failed to realize that. -, Stella encouraged him, rubbing her lace covered vagina against his hard shaft, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from the man.

-Yes…-, he breathed, carefully, almost reverently removing the lace tong to free curls darker and thicker than those surrounding the woman's face. Stella watched in anticipation as the former Marine lowered his face between her parted legs, and whimpered when she first felt his tongue slide over her inner tight, reaching the pulsing point. It was nothing, nothing, though, compared to the way she cried when the tip of his tongue slid between her inner lips.

She panted and gasped as Mac explored her inner sanctuary with his hot tongue, almost exploding in pure pleasure the faster he rubbed her clit with it.

-Mac… Oh my God…-, she breathed a moment before he started slowing his sensual assault. She wasn't sure exactly when the man had got ridden of his boxers; at any rate, she was _very_ conscious of the moment their most intimate union started. She had not expected him to be so big; he wasn't exceptionally tall a man, nor the sturdiest she had dated, yet he filled her completely, rocking spots very few, if none, had managed to hit.

She grasped his shoulders as he dived repeatedly into her, scratching them until they bled as the first waves of the building orgasm hit her. She came first, soon followed by Mac. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her, panting heavily as the woman still tried to regain her breath herself, sweat glistening upon both skin.

After a moment of stillness, the man slid to Stella's side, placing a kiss to her temple.

-Thank you for opening up to me. -, he whispered, circling her waist with an arm.

She didn't say the words, but as sleep claimed her, Stella thought to herself that the man had worked long and hard to gain her complete and utter trust, and that if she had opened up, literally, to Mac years ago she would have spared them both a lot of heart ache.

Because Mac would do anything for her.

***FOUR MONTHS LATER***

-Have you noticed something different with Stella?-, Danny asked casually to the man walking next to him, his friend and colleague Sheldon Hawkes. The Afro American man smiled to himself; Messer never asked something _casually_, he always had an ulterior motive.

-What do you mean?-, he feigned ignorance, willing the other CSI to share his thoughts before doing so himself.

-Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but she seems happier lately, and that's odd for someone who's just recovered from the flu, however light it was…-, Danny commented.

-Yes, but we're talking about Stella, here. She's used to bounce back in no time, and you'll have to admit that she's rather the cheerful person. -, Sheldon pointed out. Deep in thought, probably considering this, it took the other man a moment to reply.

-Yes, but… okay, this will probably sound absurd, but have you noticed the change in her wardrobe? Suddenly she'd wearing all these large shirt… not that they don't look good on her, but it's different from what we're used to see her into…-

-Should your wife be worried with you checking Stella out?-, Sheldon joked, earning a fake laugh from his friend. –Seriously, though, I have noticed, yes. Maybe someone finally complained about her low-cut tops and Mac persuaded her to change a bit. -, he added with a shrug. Danny shook his head.

-No, man, they're still low cut. Larger, but still low cut. -, he bit back, voice gradually dropping as they reached the break room, where Lindsay and Stella were already sitting on the couch, talking animatedly to each other.

-Is it just my imagination, or is Lindsay kinda looking… ecstatic?-, without waiting for a reply, he burst into the room, stepping in front of Stella, who looked up and smiled at him. He took a moment to check out her abdomen before blurting out: -Are you pregnant, Stella?-

Sheldon might have chocked on his own saliva had Mac not entered the room –there was always the rule that no one got to get killed while in Mac's presence; the dark haired man sat on the only free spot by Stella's side and gently placed his large hands upon the woman's belly.

The shape his fingers followed was unmistakable.


End file.
